At about seven o'clock that evening, whilst he lies entwined with Ryan on Ryan's bed, Brendon realises that he's forgotten to get into contact with his mom, again, and that she's probably worrying about him.
He breaks the kiss, causing Ryan to sigh, wistfully, and untangles himself from the long limbs of his boyfriend. He still can't get over that word. Stroking circles into one of Ryan's thighs, absently, he finds his mom's number on his phone, and lifts it to his ear.
"Hello?" comes his mom's worried voice. "Brendon?"
"Yeah, it's me," Brendon replies, and then squeaks slightly as Ryan begins to leave a trail of kisses down his chest. "Um. I-I just wanted to let you know that I'm, um, staying at - at Spencer's house t-tonight, if that's o-okay."
"That's fine," his mother sighs, sounding relieved. "Are you okay? You sounds a bit nervous."
"Oh, I-I'm fine," he answers, truthfully, as Ryan begins to unbuckle his belt, shooting him a mischievous smile. "Uh. How - how are you?"
"I'm alright," she says, as Ryan pulls Brendon's jeans and underwear down his legs. Brendon shakes his head, eyes wide, but Ryan merely fastens his hands around the bases of Brendon's cock, laughing slightly. "Your father rang earlier, you know. He says he's going to come and stay with us, and soon."
"Oh, that's - uh - that's good," Brendon mumbles, and he can't help but let out a small moan, what with the pleasure running through his very blood, thanks to Ryan's quickening hand movements.
"What was that?" his mom asks, sounding alarmed. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine, but I really, really have to go?" Brendon says, quickly and breathlessly, as Ryan laughs again. "I'll - er - I'll see you t-tomorrow."
"Don't go just yet," his mom orders him, and he winces, as Ryan begins to stroke him even faster, leaning forward to press kisses onto his abdomen. "I want to have a quick word with you about Rodney."
"Look, Mom, this isn't the best --"
"That bruise on your jaw, who gave it to you?"
Brendon lets out another, ill-disguised groan, as he can feel his insides twisting. Why does his mom pick now to be concerned about her abusive boyfriend? "J-just some jock at school, but Rodney has - Rodney has --"
"Brendon, are you quite sure that you're --"
He lets out a loud, uncontrolled moan, then, and comes, tossing his head back. He can hear Ryan laughing, but is a little too deafened by pleasure to really notice. Fuck. He had no idea that anybody could bring him to the edge so quickly.
There's silence on the phone, and then his mom asks, in a rather higher pitched voice than usual, "Brendon, are you at Ryan's house?"
"I've got to go," Brendon tells her, and cuts off the call. He sits up, cheeks burning, and glares at Ryan, who is just about killing himself with his hard laughter. "Well, thanks very, very much for wanking me off whilst I'm talking to my mother."
Ryan manages to stop laughing for two seconds, giving him enough time to wheeze, "You just came to the sound of your mother's voice."
Brendon goes even redder, and crosses his arms, falling back across the bed. "Fine. If you're going to be horrible, I may as well --"
"I'm sorry," Ryan grins, not much sounding it. He lays down next to Brendon, however, curling his arm around his waist and pressing his lips against his cheeks, comfortingly. "I'm sorry," he whispers, the giggle now gone from his voice. "I just can't help but want to, well. Um."
"Touch me?" Brendon teases, wiggling in the sheets to get more comfortable. "I don't blame you."
Ryan shakes his head, looking exasperated. "You're ridiculous."
"I know," Brendon replies, happily, and tilts his head to meet Ryan's lips in a small kiss. He pulls back, however, when he realises that his legs are rather sticky, and pulls a face. "Can I use your shower, please? I really need to clean up."
"That's funny," Ryan says, in a strangely innocent tone. "I was just about to take a shower, too."
Their eyes meet, and Brendon can't help but burst out laughing. He clambers excitedly off the bed, just about tripping up on his pulled-down jeans, and pulls Ryan to his feet. "Let's go, then," he beams, pulling Ryan into the direction of the shower.
Ryan doesn't resist, causing Brendon to smile even wider.
*
Terry Brooke and Catherine Armistice make their way, slowly, through a clumsy tune. Terry is awkwardly playing piano, whilst Catherine uses a just-about-broken xylophone. Brendon winces all the way through it. It sounds childish and amateur, and though Brendon doesn't want to sound too arrogant, he's kind of glad he's not partnered with either of them.
He and Ryan - after their shower, which makes Brendon's cheeks glow with the memory - had spent all night working on their music project. Ryan's parents were both out, his dad at a bar and his mom with her sister, and so they weren't disturbed, which Brendon was grateful for; they kept getting, ah, distracted from their song.
But they had managed to complete it, somehow. Ryan is going to play guitar, whilst Brendon will do the lead vocals, with Ryan singing a few lines. In practise, it was basically flawless (even if Brendon thought his voice still wasn't that good, despite Ryan's compliments), but Brendon can't help but think that it could go horrifically wrong in front of an entire class.
Jon and Spencer had gone first, with Spencer on the drums and Jon on guitar. They'd done exceedingly well, almost getting full marks, and Brendon can't help but admire how well-timed and constructed and played it all had been. He can only hope that the originality of Ryan's lyrics, and the fact that there will be singing involved, can impress the teacher.
As Catherine and Terry finish, to a smattering of applause, the teacher looks up from her desk, looking slightly pained. "Well. That was certainly...interesting. I give you both twenty marks out of fifty."
The pair quickly sit back at their desks, looking nothing but relieved that their turn is over. Mrs. Harris checks them off their list, and then looks up, with a smug smile. "Brendon and Ryan, please."
They share a look. Ryan is looking anxious, as he takes his acoustic guitar from his bag and settles it awkwardly on his knee. Brendon feels stupid, not getting an instrument out, and he can see Mrs. Harris staring at him, questioningly.
Ryan meets his eye, and gives him a small, supportive smile. Brendon suddenly thinks that maybe he can do this, after all.
The guitar strumming starts, and Brendon glances around the class. Most people are looking interested at how this will turn out; the weird new kid, and the even weirder, violent kid, partnered together. Jon is gives him the thumbs up. Spencer smiles, reassuringly. Mrs. Harris is frowning.
He opens his mouth, takes a deep breath, and begins.
"The I.V. and your hospital bed..."
*
"I can't believe it," Ryan says, for what must be the twentieth time that afternoon. He and Brendon are sat on the park, which is empty but for them, and school has just finished. "I can't believe it."
"I can," Brendon laughs, thrilled with his boyfriend's surprise. "You're amazing at guitar, and your lyrics are like, I don't know. Really professional and creative and stuff."
"It was your singing that really made it good, though," Ryan informs him, smiling at the memory. "I mean, I thought you were good in practise, but you were just amazing in front of everybody. It's like you're a natural performer or something."
Brendon shakes his head, dismissively, but feels pleased nonetheless. He leans back and looks up at the cloudless sky, unable to keep the smile from off his face. The song had gone amazing well, he has to admit. The fact that Mrs. Harris - who quite obviously dislikes the two of them - gave it full marks is pretty astounding.
"I can't believe it," Ryan sighs, again, causing Brendon to laugh, and sit up.
"D'you want to come back to mine for a bit?" he asks, picking up Ryan's lax hand from the grass and entwining their fingers. "I want you to meet my mom. Properly."
Ryan furrows his brow. "Is she okay? With us, I mean?"
"Well." Brendon shrugs, uncomfortably. "I don't know. But this is the only way to find out."
"Will that asshole of a man be there?"
Brendon smiles, shaking his head. "No. He works late on Tuesdays, so it'll just be my mom."
Ryan plays with Brendon's hand, looking a little apprehensive. However, he looks up, with a small smile, and nods. "Of course I'll come to your house. Shall we go now?"
Brendon grins, nodding, and gets to his feet. Ryan does the same, moments later, and they begin their journey towards his house. It takes about fifteen minutes, in which time Brendon has silently convinced himself that his mom is probably going to flip out and kick him out the house or something.
When he opens his front door, Ryan right behind him, his hands are shaking.
"Brendon?" comes his mom's call from the kitchen, and he shoots a nervous look back at Ryan. Ryan plants a reassuring kiss on his cheek, takes his hand, and firmly leads him towards the room. "Is that you?"
"Yeah," Brendon replies, licking his lips, which have gone strangely dry. He opens the kitchen door, and walks in, hand-in-hand with Ryan - before coming to a halt. His mom isn't alone, after all. There's a man with her. A man sat at the table, drinking tea, and looking thoroughly at home. A man he hasn't seen for six months, but has missed like hell. A man who looks strangely like him.
"Dad?"
The man looks up, his brown eyes meeting Brendon's, and he bursts into a large, sunny smile, leaping to his feet. Without hesitation, Mr. Urie pulls Brendon into a tight hug, causing Brendon to let go of Ryan's hand, instead throwing his arms around his father's back, and squeezing back. He doesn't even care if he's making a fool of himself, because this is his dad, and he didn't think he'd see him so soon.
Mr. Urie releases him, still smiling, and then turns to their other guest. "You must be Ryan? Monica has been telling me about you."
Ryan looks a little startled, and a little nervous, but Mr. Urie offers him his hand. He takes it, looking relieved, and Brendon's smile just about stretches off of his face, it's so huge. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in California? Have you got me any presents? Thanks for the guitar, by the way, it's really cool and --"
"It's nice to see you too, Brendon," Mr. Urie laughs, shaking his head slightly. "It's nice to see that you haven't changed at all. Obviously your mom has been taking good care of you."
Brendon nods, and glances towards his mother. She has a strange expression her face as she stares at her ex-husband, that Brendon can't quite place. If he had to say, however, he'd guess that she's remembering all of the good times they'd shared, but he can't be sure.
"Your father and I need to talk, in private," she says, in a small voice, but gives Brendon a smile. He returns it, feeling a little sorry for her. "Can you and Ryan gives us about an hour?"
"Of course, Mrs. Urie," Ryan replies, immediately, taking Brendon's hand again, and meaning to leave the room. Mrs. Urie, however, shakes her head, and leans over to pat Ryan's shoulder, comfortingly.
"It's Monica to you, okay, honey? Just so you know, you're welcome to come round whenever you want. I'm sorry if I've been a bit harsh on you, recently."
"Not at all, Mrs. - I mean, Monica," Ryan smiles, a little awkwardly. She smiles back, and Brendon just about beams, and then the pair of them leave the adults to it, heading for Brendon's room.
When they get there, Brendon immediately tugs Ryan down onto the bed with him, kissing him, deeply. He actually can't believe what good luck he's having at the moment, he thinks, as Ryan straddles him, hands slipping up his shirt. First of all, Ryan and him have an amazing fuck in a bathroom, and get back together. They get full marks on their music project. His dad returns into his life, and both he and his mom are accepting of Brendon's life choices.
Best of all, though, Ryan is on top of him, his lips pressing tenderly against Brendon's neck.
"Your dad seems nice," Ryan mumbles, against his skin, and Brendon laughs.
"Can we please not talk about my parents when we're about to have sex? Last night was embarrassing enough."
Ryan snorts at the memory, sitting up and looking playfully down at Brendon. "We're about to have sex, are we? Who says?"
"I do," Brendon winks, playfully pinching Ryan's ass. Ryan lets out a loud, happy laugh, and shakes his head. He meets Brendon's eye, and his smile fades, slightly, seeming to soften. Brendon, suddenly, feels nervous, but he has no idea why. Ryan brushes his fingers over Brendon's lips, biting his own.
"Um. You know the morning after your party, when I was going to tell you something?"
Brendon casts his mind back to the unpleasant day, and nods.
"Uh. Well. I never got to tell you it, did I?"
"No," Brendon says, slowly, cautiously. "You didn't."
"Well. Yeah. I, um, kind of have some things to tell you." He climbs off of Brendon, and instead snuggles into his side, more comfortably. Brendon's stomach is doing all sorts of strange, nervous flutterings, and he curves his arm around Ryan's waist, pulling him closer, hoping to seem comforting.
"You can tell me anything," he whispers, honestly.
Ryan kisses him, gently, on the lips, and then lets out a light sigh. "I'm going to go to the doctor's tomorrow. I've talked to my mom about it, and she's agreed to pay for it and any medication that I might need. I mean, these kind of. Um. Violent tendencies. They're not normal, are they? I never knew that they were so different, but they are, and I can't risk destroying our relationship because of them."
Brendon's breath is caught strangely in his throat. "Um. Wow. I mean, that's a lot of, well, dedication. I know how horrible medication can be; I was nearly put on some myself the other day."
"You were?" Ryan asks, sharply. "For your ADHD?"
"Yeah."
"You can't take them," Ryan tells him, but it's more of a plea than an order. "You're too, I don't know. Full of life. Amazing. I can't describe it."
"But why would you put yourself through medication, for me?" Brendon asks quietly, feeling a little overwhelmed. "It's a hell of a thing to do."
"I guess it's because, I --" Ryan stops, hesitates, and licks his lips, nervously. "I guess it's because I'm sort of in love with you."
Brendon stares at him. He's gone strangely numb, an odd swelling sensation billowing deep inside. Ryan looks at him for a moment longer, and then sits up, shaking his head. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have --"
Brendon doesn't let him finish his apologies, however. He grabs Ryan's arm, pulling him sharply onto his back, and covers his apologetic mouth with his own. Then, as Ryan lets out a muffled sound, he pulls back, actually trembling, because Ryan is actually in love with him.
"Don't you dare apologise," he growls, staring intently into Ryan's eyes.
"Why not?" Ryan asks, in a small voice, looking uncertain.
"I love you," Brendon says, before he cant stop himself. "I love you, so you can't apologise because I won't accept, or that'd be damn hypocritical of me, you know? I don't understand why you'd love me; I'm weird and I wear glasses and I talk too much and I can't sit still, whereas you're like, fucking Ryan Ross, you know? But maybe it might --"
"Brendon?"
"Yeah?"
"Shut up," Ryan laughs, his happiness tipping into his voice, and kisses him.
Brendon shuts up, and kisses back.